Scion
by LadyBush
Summary: Following the Council of Elrond, a conversation takes place in which two Lords of Gondor become reconciled. Could it herald the beginning of an uneasy friendship?


Disclaimer: Tolkien is my hero.

_Scion: A descendant of a family, especially a noble one._

**Scion**

A ranger's hearing is sharp; Aragorn heard the footsteps long before Boromir had seen him, sitting quietly in the gardens, his back and head resting against a marble statue.

"Good evening, Boromir of Gondor." Aragorn said. His tone was cautious, the set of his shoulders stiff.

Boromir nodded his head in greeting. "Is it a good evening?" he asked. "I'm not so certain." With these words Boromir sat – uninvited – next to Aragorn. He did not look at the other man. "To you, ranger, I probably appear clumsy and insensitive. Let me tell you now that I am one but not the other. I _am_ clumsy: I speak out of turn and have little ability where formal gatherings and banquets are concerned. I have little tact and too much-"

"Aggression? That's very true, however I care not in the least about your ability as a courtier, only the strength of your sword arm." Aragorn's words were cold; his delivery fierce.

"My point is-" Boromir continued, unperturbed by Aragorn's coldness, "-The point I was getting to is that I am _not _insensitive. I see that you are troubled, Aragorn, and I wish to help you."

Now there was something unexpected. Aragorn hazarded a glance at the man sitting next to him and found himself looking into Boromir's face, which wore a surprisingly earnest expression. Aragorn's dislike of the younger man faded somewhat, replaced with curiosity. "How do you intend to help me?"

"A weight lies heavy on your shoulders, Aragorn son of Arathorn."

"That is very true. However, Boromir, since you have already disregarded my claim to the throne of your country I fail to see why you would want to help me." A note of unease entered Aragorn's voice.

"I spoke in haste at the council," Boromir said. He smiled at the expression of disbelief that fleetingly crossed Aragorn's face. "Nay, I am not saying that I will follow you to my death, I am not swearing my allegiance to you, I will certainly not be kneeling at your feet any time soon and yet…" Boromir's smile faded. "…I understand how it feels to be born into a position of responsibility that, given the choice, you would not have chosen."

"I have heard you are a fine leader of men."

"I am soldier; I can lead men in battle, never in times of peace." Boromir gave a rueful shake of his head. "I am no diplomat, that's for sure."

"At least you speak your mind: _'Gondor has no king; Gondor needs no king'. _You may be tactless but at least you speak from the heart."

"I speak as I see," Boromir said. "And I hope you will permit me to speak freely now."

Aragorn inclined his head.

"I do not want the stewardship of Gondor. It means everything to my father, the Lord Denethor, yet little to me. I am happiest on the battlefield and if I could choose then I would spend my life as a Captain of Gondor, not a Steward. I do not want to be locked in a tower from dawn to dusk, buried beneath paperwork. I do not want to preside over great banquets and-" Boromir gave a small chuckle. "-I certainly do not want to marry some scrawny fourteen-year-old girl for the sake of the alliance with somewhere or another. All I desire is to spend my days on the battlefield, my evenings with my men and my nights bedding down under the stars."

A frown crossed Aragorn's face. "If you do not want to be Steward why do you resent me?"

Boromir shrugged. "My father's desires must be mine also. He would never let you take the throne and I could not defy him… Not easily anyway. Besides, what do you know of the city I love- the city I would give me life for? You have never even seen Gondor."

"I have," Aragorn said. "A long time ago."

For a moment Boromir looked taken aback. "Then is the White Tower not beautiful?" he eventually asked.

"Very beautiful." The frown left Aragorn's face. "Sometimes I dream of Gondor. I dream I see the White Tower gleaming in the early morning sun and the Tree blooming as it did in the old days. There is the sound of childish laughter and birdsong and-" Aragorn shook his head. "But it is only a dream."

"No, not _only _a dream. It is a wonderful dream."

"I am the king," Aragorn said. He looked into Boromir's eyes, hoping to read the man's emotions in those burning green orbs. "I _am _the King of Gondor."

Boromir's reply was hushed, only a whispered 'yes'.

"You have spoken to me of burdens, Boromir. I shall tell you what weighs so heavily on my mind… It is the Ring. It calls to me. It knows me for Isildur's heir."

"And the Ring is known as Isildur's bane, is it not?"

"It is. The Ring would ruin Gondor and yet part of me can't help but wonder if-"

"The strength to defend my people… Our people. That is all I ask for, Lord Aragorn. The Ring would grant us that strength."

"Boromir!" Aragorn grasped the Gondorian's shoulders in a sudden movement. "Those who use the Ring of Power do so at the cost of their own souls!"

"I would die for Gondor!"

"And if you used the Ring, Gondor would die with you. It would be overcome with darkness. Surely you can see that, Boromir?"

The Steward's son did not answer for a moment. Then he pulled away from Aragorn's grasp. "I know the Ring to be evil," he said. "I also know Gondor to be under threat. Forgive me if I find it difficult to reconcile these two ideas."

Aragorn nodded. "The Ring corrupts. I fear it has begun to corrupt me. I hear its call and I wonder how long I will be able to fight it. The blood flowing through my veins is the blood of Isildur. I fear that the Ring will be my undoing as it was my ancestor's."

"The future is not tied to the past," Boromir said. His voice was quiet and thoughtful: almost wistful. "There is no reason why Isildur's fate should be yours also."

Arwen had said the same thing scarcely hours ago yet it was different hearing it from Boromir, who had little love for him and as such no reason to feed him lies.

"I think you are stronger than you know," Boromir added. His tone was frank and honest. "And I do not know whether I should fear you or trust you. What do you think?"

Aragorn answered immediately. "You should trust me," he said. He hesitated a moment before offering his hand. Boromir took it in his own hands, though he did not hold it for long.

"As I have said already, I will _not_ follow you to my death. Not yet, at any rate." Boromir smiled at him. "I will, however, follow you to Gondor."

Aragorn's answering smile caught himself by surprise.

**Finis**


End file.
